


Tales from Wool's Orphanage

by Trying_to_sleep



Series: These Stupid Wizards AU [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24661177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trying_to_sleep/pseuds/Trying_to_sleep
Summary: Nico and his sister Bianca did not go straight to the Lotus casino. Instead, they were taken to Britain, to a certain orphanage where a certain future dark lord was housed.
Series: These Stupid Wizards AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783072
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to These Stupid Wizards, but can be read as a standalone story. That being said, the last chapter does correspond with the last chapter of TSW so it would be helpful to read that if you don't want to be confused.

A boy struggled down a cobbled road, tugged along by a girl a little older than him. Her face was set. The boy paused and stopped.

“Bianca,” he whined, his voice thick with tiredness. “I can’t go on anymore.”

“You have to Nico. We’re almost there.” The girl also sounded exhausted, perhaps more so than her brother.

“Where?” the boy asked. “Where are we going?”

The girl – Bianca – sighed. “Somewhere safe. Papa said so. We follow this man somewhere safe.” She turned to her brother. “He’s a lawyer.” She added as if this made everything more official. Maybe to her, it did.

“Why? Why can’t we stay with Papa?”

Bianca sighed again and pressed her palm to her head, although not in exasperation. Nico was too young to really understand. “Papa is too busy. He has his business in America.” She explained, repeating the words she had repeated almost every hour.

“And Mama left.” Nico sniffed, dangerously close to tears which Bianca could not deal with right now. She was close to weeping herself.

“Yes, Mama left.” She said gently. She tried not to let herself remember the flash of light. The strong arms of their father grabbing her and Nico, pulling them into a dark orb. She tried not to remember Mama’s scream as she was hit, Papa’s howl of anguish as he realised she was left outside. Bianca was still young, but she knew that her mother had been killed. In fact, she probably knew more about death than any eleven year old should – she learned from visits to Papa’s workplace where he dealt with funerals and death. She swore she could sometimes see the still grey swirls of shapes moving about in that giant room that papa took her to before they went across the black river. She had also become friendly with the receptionist – Charon – and he let her touch the material for his special Italian suits. It had never occurred to her that any of this was strange.

Nico was never allowed on any of these visits. Mama said he was too young and Papa agreed, but he admitted to Bianca privately that he didn’t think Nico would ever be able to come. Then he turned around and told her that ‘of course he didn’t have favourites.’

Papa always had an American accent and spoke in English which was why Bianca and Nico spoke it so well for their age. Still, it was annoying having a father who couldn’t speak Italian.

Turning her attention back to the struggling Nico, she grabbed his hand and gave a thumbs up to the impatient lawyer who had stopped to wait for them and was tapping his foot.

“Andremo bene” she whispered to him. “We’ll be ok.”

The dark clouds over their heads rumbled with the sound of an upcoming storm as their guide stopped in front of two giant cast iron gates, seeming to Bianca like they were the bars to a cage. On the gates was written _Wools Orphanage._


	2. Friends and foes

The gates opened with a shuddering creak. Bianca shivered. It was a cold evening and she hadn’t dressed for the weather. Beside her Nico was shaking and his lips were blue. The lawyer gestured for them to go inside. Once past the gates, they clanged shut. The smaller door at the front of the great grey building in front of them was opened by a woman in a white apron. She glanced at Nico and Bianca and then turned to the lawyer. He shoved a letter roughly into her hand, gave a cursory glare at the children and then left in a flash that didn’t seem to be noticed by the woman.

“You must be Nico and Bianca.” She said in a tone that wasn’t unkind, but wasn’t the sweet tones they were used to from Mama and Papa. She glanced down at the sheet of paper in her hands. “Children of an American business man and mother killed in an accident.” She gave them a sympathetic look. “Come in, we’ll get you some food.” Nico’s frown became more of a neutral smile at the mention of food, but Bianca was worried.

The food turned out to be a piece of bread and butter each with a cup of lukewarm dirty water. From across the city, Bianca could hear bangs and crashes which unsettled her; she had been worried about the London blitzes. Nico gobbled up his bread and sat at the table expectantly, probably waiting for more food. She didn’t blame him: their lunch had been hours ago since Nico insisted on eating their sandwiches at ten o clock.

However, there didn’t seem to be anything else and the woman who instructed them to call her matron took them by the hand and led them down a corridor. She then handed Bianca to another woman who didn’t even spare her a glance as she dragged her to one of the doors.

“Nico!” Bianca called. “Ma’am, I can’t be separated from my brother!” she said it in her best, politest English but it seemed to have no effect.

“Girls and boys must be apart.” She said in a voice so monotonously dull that Bianca couldn’t bear it.

“But Ma’am, he needs me. He can’t sleep if I’m not there!”

“Well he’ll have to learn to.” She decreed. “He’ll learn to look after himself here”

“But he can’t be alone!” Bianca protested. She had given up on being polite now.

“He won’t be.” The woman said. “He’ll have a roommate, as will you.”

A roommate. Of course. Bianca hadn’t really expected that she’d be alone had she? There was always going to be somewhere else. A tiny tear trickled down her cheek.

“Oh stop your sniffing will you, girl. Your brother will be fine.” She opened the door to one of the rooms at the end of corridor and shoved Bianca inside. “These are your roommates May and Nancy. You two, go easy on her – she’s new.” The woman shut the door without another word. Bianca stared at the two girls sitting on their beds, looking up at her with contempt. Another tear found its way onto her skin.

“Oh look, May. She’s crying.” The girl Bianca assumed was Nancy laughed. “This is going to be fun.”

* * *

Tom heard the knock on his door at half past nine on a Friday night.

“Tom? Are you in there?” the matron’s voice said cautiously. He grunted in reply. She opened the door slightly letting a crack of light filter through into the dim room. Then she opened it fully and through his glare, Tom could see her and another. A boy.

“Tom, this is your new roommate, Nico di Angelo.” The matron said and the boy glanced up at his name.

He was younger than Tom – about eight or nine – and he looked very dishevelled and careworn. Nico had on a brown jumper and grey trousers, both torn to bits and covered in tiny wisps of black. His short brown hair stuck up all over the place as if he’d been travelling and had stuck his head out of the window. His huge brown eyes were just confused. The matron pushed him carefully towards Tom and closed the door leaving the two boys together.

Tom tried to make conversation, he really did. He tried approaching Nico and making small talk. He tried to ask about him and when he did, Nico began to cry. Tom was getting scared. He didn’t know how to deal with young kids. He tried to comfort him and stop the incessant crying (admittedly because it was so annoying) and he tried to explain who he was. None of these were to any affect and Tom spent an uncomfortable night listening to Nico’s sniffles.

Nico was wide awake when Tom woke up.

“Where’s my sister? Who are you?” he asked with a thick accent that Tom couldn’t quite place.

He started and jumped up from his bed. “I'm Tom Riddle.” He said. “Your sister’s probably in the girl’s dorms.”

“She left me!” Nico wailed suddenly. “First mama, then papa and now Bianca!”

Despite his scepticism of an eight year old who still called his mother ‘mama’, Tom was curious. “What were your parents like?” he asked. He had never known his own. All he knew was that his mother had dumped him on the step of the orphanage when he was a baby.

Nico thought for a moment. “I can’t remember. I know mama died… then we brought here by that lawyer and… I don't know. Can’t remember anything before that.” He burst into tears again and Tom shivered.

Tom Riddle wasn’t famed for his kindness. In fact, he tended to be the sort of kid who pulled the wings off flies and pushed other kids over into a pile of mud. But, this small boy in tears touched his heart and frightened him at the same time. Yes. He was going to look after Nico di Angelo.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing the boy’s attention. “Want to be friends?”

Nico considered. “Friends. I like that word. Si. Would you leave me?”

Tom shook his head in earnest. “Never.”

“We’d always be together?” Nico asked.

“Always.”


	3. Caves

It was an exciting day in the orphanage – trip day. Well, exciting for the children who were looking forward to a day away from the cold grey walls and never changing regime. In Tom and Nico’s room, the two were still in bed, Nico’s covers pulled well over his head and the soft sound of Tom’s snoring echoing around the room. There was no movement from either of them. At around eight o clock, Nico’s duvet twitched slightly as he rolled over. Suddenly, it was flung from the bed. Nico sprung up with his arms in the air, a grin on his face.

“Tom!” he shouted, to no effect as the latter mentioned was still fast asleep.

Nico raced over to Tom’s bed. “Tom!” he called again. “Wake up! We’re going on a trip!”

“Ugggh.” Tom groaned and turned to face the wall. “Too early, Nico.”

Nico glanced at the clock. “No it isn’t. It’s eight! It’s late!”

“How are you so enthusiastic?” Tom grumbled. Nico giggled.

“Come _on!”_ he tugged at the duvet cover to try to get it off, but Tom had a firm grip and refused to let go. Eventually Nico was thrown to the floor where he sat and pouted, his lower lip trembling. Tom growled. Nico knew exactly what he was doing and he knew that Tom couldn’t resist the pout.

“Okay fine!” he exclaimed, throwing away the covers and swinging one leg over the other reluctantly. Nico immediately picked himself up off the floor and started bouncing about the room, picking up random items of clothing and stuffing them on over his pyjamas as he did so. Tom gave him a pointed glance which he acknowledged sheepishly and bounded into the bathroom to dress properly, giving Tom the chance to do so as well. It was their little routine and it worked well.

They came downstairs subject to the usual glares that meant they were a little late. After downing their porridge, the two joined the other boys ready to leave for the caves they would be exploring. Nico tried to move towards the other section of the room where his sister Bianca was stood. Tom had met her only once when Nico had managed to escape the matron at breakfast and had sidled over to her. She seemed pleasant enough if a little stuffy.

The staff of the orphanage, who looked more stressed than should be necessary, herded the children out of the door and sheparded them across the streets in the direction of the train station. Half an hour later, they were seated upon dusty second class seats chattering excitedly.

Tom sat with Nico as usual along with Bianca and another girl. He never bothered to learn her name.

When the train lurched and set off across the tracks, Nico sat up straight and leaned out of the window excitedly. Bianca pulled him back into the carriage with a giggle at his soot dusted face.

“You know not to do that, Nico.” She admonished lightly.

“It’s fun!” he protested, but his words fell on deaf ears.

“Do you want to get into trouble with the matron?” she asked.

“No, but…” his face began to contort into his pout again and Tom winced.

“Not going to work, Nico.” She warned. “I'm immune.”

“Bianca!” he whined, still clearly trying to win her over.

“No, and that’s final.”

Tom stared at her in astonishment. “How do you do that?”

Bianca laughed. “I take it you’ve experienced it?”

“This morning.”

“Yes. Well, it takes practice to ignore it. I’ve been looking after him for years and our papa always used to teach me how to see round the wiles of nine year olds.”

“Papa?” asked Nico, who had stuck his head out of the window again.

“Nico!” she shouted. “Stop that. Yes, papa. I was telling Tom about how your pout didn’t work on him.”

“It so did!”

“Didn’t!

“Did!”

Tom turned to the girl next to him. “Are they always like this?” she shrugged and turned away.

Rude.

Thankfully, the journey didn’t last much longer and Tom was spared from the arguments of the di Angelos.

The train pulled up to the station with a slow creak which made Nico nervous.

About an hour later after much shouting and screaming and stress, the party arrived at the beach where they would spend the day. The matron and other staff set up camp on one of the sand dunes and instructed the kids to go off and play, returning for lunch at one o clock.

Tom and Nico immediately went off to the shore and began to dig using their hands as shovels.

“I'm going to dig all the way to Australia!” Nico announced.

“You can’t - the core’s way too hot.”

“I don't care. I’ll teleport through.”

“I thought you were going to dig? Also, teleporting?”

“Changed my mind, and yes. Teleporting. It was in that comic book I got.”

“Whatever.” Tom sounded bored. “Hey, Nico, I want to go and look at those caves.”

“The big scary ones over there?”

“Yep!” Tom took Nico’s hand and pulled him over to the caves which were rather impressive with their huge stalactites which hung from the cave ceiling as icicles do from beams on houses in winter. Nico, who had long let go of his trepidation after seeing the various structures, ran about trying to look at everything at once. Tom was equally excited, but he, considering himself the more mature of the two, kept his eagerness to the minimum in an attempt to feel older.

He wasn’t particularly good at it; it didn’t take him long to start admiring the walls either and he joined Nico in exhilarated laughter.

“Tom, look over here!” Nico shouted from somewhere around the corner. “I found a lake!” Tom made his way round and stopped short at one of the most beautiful and eerie places he had ever seen.

The lake was fairly large; the area Tom could see spanning about twenty metres further before becoming lost in the mist that clung to its surface. It was not the blue of the sea that they had seen earlier, instead donning a deep rich green that Tom found himself drawn to automatically. The water shimmered like silk, despite there being little light in the cavern. If he looked closely, Tom could see shapes moving beneath the surface, pale and ethereal. He stood transfixed for some time, simply taking in his surroundings. It was enchanting. That was until he heard the scream.

It was coming from a few metres away and Tom quickly turned his head to see “Nico!”

“Tom!” Nico’s answering call was muffled by whatever caused the scream in the first place. Running over, Tom saw some sort of _thing_ holding his roommate and pulling him down into those depths Tom was admiring only a few seconds ago. Suddenly they did not seem quite as enticing. It seemed much more beguiling and seductive – not in a good way. The lake was dangerous. Even as Tom realised this, he still could not take his eyes off the water as it lay still superficially, but teeming with life beneath. Deadly life. Nico!

He grabbed Nico’s arms, which were flailing as the creatures tugged at his legs. Tom pulled with all his might, but the white creatures were stronger. Arms grappled at his own legs and he began to be pulled under with Nico. There was nothing the two could do but struggle desperately, trying for purchase on the slippery bank as the arms dragged them further and further. Deeper and deeper. Colder and colder.

Tom didn’t notice the gem like beauty of the lake bed with grasses tangling about each other in a mad dance and he didn’t notice the multitude of creatures, just like the ones that had he and Nico, which crowded around curiously, gaping at the two human captives. All Tom could think was that he wanted to leave. He wanted to be safe, and get out of this cave, no matter how entrancing it was. The thought of the warm fire in their room made him shiver. Fire. Suddenly, Tom was no longer shivering. Suddenly it was no longer bone chillingly cold. It was warm, hot. So hot. It was bright too and Tom vaguely noted the flames erupting around him, forming a barrier between him and Nico and the creatures. His brain protested, telling him that there was no way there could be fire underwater. His body told his brain to shut up, because it was warm and dry and safe. He glanced over at Nico who was staring at him with the oddest expression plastered over his face. Nico was safe too then – good.

The ring of fire they were encased in seemed to be moving steadily upwards towards the surface. It eventually deposited the two boys on the shore and evaporated in a shower of sparks. They lay there spluttering and choking, neither one able to get up just yet.

After about five minutes, Nico sat up and looked at Tom. Tom looked back.

“What just happened?” Nico asked, and Tom could hear his fear seeping through his voice. “Ho paura.”

Tom didn’t reply. He was not scared as such, just confused. He, unlike Nico, had a good idea of what had just occurred. It was him. He knew it was. He was thinking of fire, and suddenly, there it was. He had wished to be warm and safe and then they were. It was like… it was like magic. Magic. How ridiculous!

“Tom?” Nico mumbled. “I'm scared!”

It was then that Tom remembered the age gap between him and Nico. It was easy to forget that Nico was still only nine years old. Tom was eleven this year and it had never been so obvious. He put his arms around Nico awkwardly, not knowing how to comfort him. It reminded him of the boy’s first night at the orphanage when he had been crying uncontrollably. Now, Nico cuddled up to him, trusting him completely and knowing that he was safe.

It almost made Tom cry as he hugged Nico close. They would be ok.


	4. Ending

“Nico!” Tom shouted. “Look at this!”

His friend ran over excitedly. Tom concentrated and suddenly his bed erupted into flames. Nico looked on in confused awe.

“That’s… awesome! How?

“Don't know.” Tom shrugged. “I just do it.”

“Do it again!” Nico begged. “Per favore?”

Tom grinned and did as he asked. The two spent the evening giggling and sooty. Needless to say, when the matron found them, she was not pleased.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was good with children. At least, he liked to think he was. The first year Lucius Malfoy’s latest tantrum certainly proved otherwise, but that was entirely beside the point.

He knocked on the door of the orphanage after being admitted through the rather oversized gates. The door was answered by a middle aged woman and while she peered at his apparently eccentric appearance, he noted that the paintwork needed patching up.

Realising she was speaking; he quickly turned away from the chips of paint and graced her with a smile. She did not smile back.

“What do you want?” she asked, relatively loudly, alerting Albus to the fact that he had probably been asked this before.

“I would like to talk to you.” He answered pleasantly. “It’s about one of the children here.”

“What do you know about any of our children? Are you a father?” it was clear she was getting suspicious.

“Oh goodness, no!” Albus gasped, amused at the prospect. “I am the headmaster of a school and there is a potential pupil here.”

The woman looked confused and Albus didn’t blame her. “Which child?” she asked.

“Tom… Rittle? If I am correct.” He said, glancing at the smudged writing on his hand, done in perfect italics but ruined by a rough apparition journey.

“We don't have a Tom Rittle here, sir. We have a Ryder, a Riddle, a Cooper, but no Rittle. You must be mistaken.”

Albus frowned. “I am positive I am in the right place, ma’am. Perhaps it is misspelt?” he squinted at his writing again. “Oh, do forgive me. I meant Tom Riddle. You did have a Tom Riddle, correct?”

The woman blanched slightly. “Yes. Yes we do, but are sure he is the one you are looking for?” she looked around as if to check nobody was listening. It was such a muggle thing to do, Albus thought; rather endearing. “The thing is,” she continued, “He’s a trouble maker. He hurts the other children, he’s always where he shouldn’t be and he does things and then he’s miles away. Away from the blame. He got a roommate recently, and he has calmed him down a little, but that child… he’s out of control.”

Albus smirked to himself. “Let me talk to young Mr Riddle.” He said, “It sounds as if my school would do him good.”

Doubtful, the woman led him through endless corridors until they reached a door. Behind this door, Albus could hear young boys shouting. “Tom!” the woman called, “You have a visitor!”

* * *

“I have to go, Nico! Mr Dumbledore said I was special. I’ve got to go to this school. I have to go!”

“Is this because of the fire?” Nico asked quietly. “Its magic, isn’t it. Dumbledore is a wizard, isn’t he?”

“I… think so.” Tom replied haltingly. “I'm not sure.”

“You promised.” Nico said sullenly. He was still quiet, but he was dangerously so. His usually warm brown eyes were hard and glinting with an evil edge that Tom found both petrifying and fascinating. Nico often had that effect on him – making him feel two things at once. Nico stared at him with those steely black eyes. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.” His hands began to shake. “You said you wouldn’t, and now you are.” Nico’s whole body was pulsating with anger, fear, loss, everything. Then it stopped.

His face set and he fixed a glare of hatred on Tom. “You’re just like everyone else.”

“Nico…” Tom tried. He didn’t get any further. He was knocked off his feet by something black and intangible. A shadow, he thought blindly as it wrapped tightly around his ankle and pulled him firmly to the ground. Nico walked up to him, tears streaming down his nine year old face but his eyes still hard. “I thought you were different. I thought I could trust you.” He sniffed. “I was stupid. I can’t trust anyone.”

He sent one more glare in Tom’s direction and turned on his heel, slamming the door as he went.

* * *

Tom sat on his bed, the frame creaking slightly under his weight. The letter from Dumbledore sat beside him. It was creased and damaged.

Nico had stormed out only a few minutes earlier and he was livid. Tom wasn’t sure exactly what he had done. He knew that Nico didn’t want him to go. He knew that Nico felt betrayed. He knew that Nico thought him selfish. He wasn’t. If anything, it was Nico who was being selfish. He should have been happy for him. Didn’t friends support each other? Didn’t friends care for each other no matter what?

Nico was only thinking of himself. Tom knew that, so why did he feel bad? Why did he feel angry? Why couldn’t Nico just see?

* * *

The first of September came around with rain and fog that was usual in London at that time of year. Tom Riddle glanced out of the window at the pea soup smog that hung over the city like a thick blanket. How Tom wished he could be under a blanket. And in his bed. And asleep. It was a testimony to his character that he had even managed to get up today. Until recently, Nico would have been there at the corner of his bedsheet, pulling as hard as his nine year old hands possibly could. Now, he was already gone off to breakfast, completely ignoring Tom. He glared at the empty bed as if it could tell him why Nico was so angry. It had been weeks since their argument and Nico hadn’t spoken to him once, other than in their lessons when they were forced to pair up for tasks. Even then, his voice was cold.

Tom shook his head, trying to clear his head of Nico. It was difficult.

Think about what Mr Dumbledore said. School – magic school. Tom was going there. Today! One of the orphanage staff would take him to king’s cross station where they would inevitably leave him there alone and confused, because how on earth was he supposed to find platform nine and three quarters. It didn’t exist! There he would board the train for Hogwarts. Tom couldn’t help but think that it was a rather ridiculous name; Nico would have laughed if he could be bothered to listen long enough to hear it.

When Tom got down to breakfast, Nico was on the other side of the room, eating on his own but as close to his sister as he could possibly be with the rule about splitting girls and boys. Sulking, Tom plonked his bowl of porridge down next to one of the older boys who glared at him menacingly. Tom ignored him as he sunk back into his thoughts of Nico and magic.

Nine o clock came and Tom was preparing to leave for the station in order to board at eleven. He was getting his coat on when a voice reached his ears from along the corridor.

“Tom!” Bianca di Angelo shouted. “Wait a minute!” he paused and turned, seeing her standing in front of him with the strangest expression on her face. “I want to say good luck for your school. I hope you do well.”

“Thank you.” He said, not sure why she was speaking to him.

“Anyway,” she said, “my brother has something to say to you.” For the first time, Tom noticed the shape skulking behind her and it came out to reveal Nico looking down at his shoes. Bianca laughed. “You have to stop holding grudges, mi fratello. It’s bad for you.”

“Bianca!” he groaned.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two. You better talk, Nico.” She backed away, sending glances at Nico as she went.

“Nico.” Tom said.

“Tom.” He replied. “I'm… I'm sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Tom asked incredulously. “For what?”

“Ignoring you. Bianca said it was wrong. I'm only doing this because she told me to.”

“Great.” Tom drawled. “So you don't actually mean it.”

“I do!” he said. “I just… I wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t made me. I hold grudges. That’s what she said.”

“And now?”

“I want to say,” Nico said, and it sounded genuine, “I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed I’d always be able to be with you and I should have known you want your own life and that you don't want me.”

“Nico!” Tom started, “I don’t…”

“It’s fine.” He waved a hand. “No one ever wants me, not really. Bianca gets annoyed with me all the time and I know you do too. It’s okay.”

Tom was becoming more and more distraught with every word that came out of his mouth. “Nico, don't ever think that.”

“But it’s true.” His voice had lost its confidence, now as small as the tiniest squeak from the mice in the basement. “No one can stay with me forever. They’ll always get annoyed and they’ll always leave.”

“Nico,” Tom said, “I'm not leaving because of you. I have these powers and I need to learn how to control them. I can come back every summer and at Christmas and Easter if I'm allowed too. I can see you then and ill teach you the stuff I learn. I won’t ever forget about you, and I’ll never leave you. I promise.”

Nico shook his head, looking way too serious for his nine years. “I won’t see you again after this.”

“You won’t?” Tom asked, doubt and dread beginning to form in his mind.

“No. I and Bianca are leaving. In two weeks. We’re going to a hotel that our papa wants us to stay in for a while. Maybe forever. Until Bianca turns eighteen and the war ends I think.”

“So I’ll never see you again.” It was not a question this time. Tom understood the repercussions of his statement.

“No. so, I’ll say this now, Tom. Thank you. You’ve been my best and only friend.” His tears fell freely – both of them were wet in the eyes. “I’ll always miss you. Ti amo.”

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Nico?”

“It really doesn’t. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Tom was silent for a second. “I’ll miss you too. Every second of everyday. Even if I make a hundred new friends, you’ll still be my best.”

Nico stared up at him, his eyes dark and shining with the remnants of tears. Then he surged forward and threw his arms around Tom’s waist in a tight embrace of their friendship. Tom quickly returned the hug, bringing his own arms around Nico and there they stayed, both desperate to stay with each other, but content knowing that it was for the best.

As the staff member who was to take Tom to the station arrived and coughed, they broke apart and Nico smiled. “Goodbye, Tom. Good luck”

Tom grinned. “Thanks. You too.” And they parted ways, Nico walking down the corridor, the shadows playing at his feet and Tom embarking on his new journey into a new world.

* * *

Tom later found himself on the train in a compartment with a bunch of older children with green ties. One of them had introduced himself as Lucius Malfoy, another as Rodolphus Lestrange. They said they were in the best house – Slytherin – and they began to tell him about their pure blood ideals which he only half listened to, thinking that Nico wouldn’t like what they were talking about. He zoned out for the entire journey, thinking about his friend. He looked about him, looked at the barely concealed zeal and smirks that radiated throughout. He didn’t like it. Not really, but something about the way they spoke attracted him. Every word was carefully chosen, almost as if it were a game. Nico would love that. He was always trying to become more fluent in English, his native language being Italian, and he loved wordplay and anything that twisted words round to become the opposite meanings of what you said. That was what this was. It was clever and sly and intriguing.

Tom found he didn’t really mind when he was sorted into the same house as those in his compartment and he thought that perhaps Nico would too have been placed there. It seemed like just his place. Then again, the ideals of the Gryffindor house seemed just like him too, with stupid bravery and courage.

Tom sighed, sitting down at the Slytherin table next to Lucius. It was time to stop thinking about Nico. He wouldn’t forget him, but he couldn’t let him be his only thought for the next seven years. He looked at his timetable thoughtfully. Potions looked fun, but defence against the dark arts. Well, that sounded like just Tom’s sort of thing. If he wasn’t mistaken, he himself had had some experience against the dark arts back in the lake. It would be interesting to learn about how to properly defend himself, and who knows. Perhaps he would learn a couple of things about the dark arts. It would be pretty cool.

This whole thing, Tom decided, would be pretty cool, with or without Nico di Angelo.


	5. Epilogue

“Get _up_ , Nico!” Tom shouted. “Chiron’s calling you for the councillors meeting!”

“Chiron can stuff it.” Nico groaned, covering his head with his duvet and turning over.”

“Will will be there.”

“ _Fine._ I’m getting up.” His middle finger made its way out of the bed. Tom laughed and shrugged.

“See you there.”

“Wait for me outside. I won’t be long.”

“That’s a joke right? You take hours getting ready.”

“I do not!”

“Yeah right.”

“I don’t!”

“Whatever you say.”

The middle finger came up again. Tom, still giggling, made his way outside and leaned against the wall of the Hades cabin. He sighed and hummed as he listened to Nico clattering about in his early morning haze.

Percy Jackson passed by and waved to him with a smile. He hadn’t been at the camp long, but Percy had quickly become a friend who was willing to show him the ropes and knew exactly how he felt, both because he had been thrust into this world suddenly just like Tom and because of his bout of amnesia a few years ago. He and Tom had had quite a few talks on how it felt and how best to deal with it.

Percy had suggested talking to one of the Romans called Jason grace, but he seemed reluctant to talk to him and pointedly ignored him on the few occasions they had met. Nico wouldn’t tell him why.

Despite the confusion that still hung over him, Tom was fairly happy in his new home. The people were generally friendly, the food was great and the activities were only a little lethal.

He had been spending time with the Hecate cabin recently since he had an accident involving fire coming from nowhere and turning an infuriated Nico’s hair bright pink. They had, after some experimentation, deduced that he was a ‘wizard’ as Nico called it. Nico had lent him a ‘wand’ and he had been practising with the other Hecate kids, under careful supervision.

They had entertained the idea that he might be a demigod, but Nico, who seemed to know him better than anyone, put an end to that thought.

He looked up, startled, as Nico came out of the cabin and grinned at him. Rolling his eyes at Nico’s constantly dark attire, they set off for the big house where the other councillors waited.

Life, for now, was good.


End file.
